Northern Lights
by SashaElizabeth
Summary: Robert and Cora spend an unusual New Year's Eve with nature in all its glory as a backdrop and inspiration in this one shot. Happy New Year! xxx


**Northern Comfort**

The characters do not belong to me. Thank you again to granthamfan, my terrific beta, for not only proof reading but encouraging me do much to continue on the Cobert trail. I hope everyone enjoys the story; it's my New Years greeting to you! Have a happy and blessed 2014! xx

**New Year's Eve, 1922**

It was bone-chillingly cold in Yorkshire on the last night of 1922, but Cora didn't feel the brisk air as she sighed with pleasure and snuggled closer to Robert under the blanket they shared. If any of their family had known that the couple had slipped away from the party to observe the Northern Lights as they appeared on this significant night, they might have been thought to be out of their minds. Robert and Cora, however, would not have cared even if anyone had made this assessment known. Their night had progressed from slow burning kisses to amorous encounters under the fort of blankets which Robert had made certain to bring with them. As the hours wore on, they were impervious to the winter night as they explored each other with a new sense of curiosity and urgency brought on by the thrill of sneaking off together as though they were wayward adolescents.

"You're sure that you are not too cold, darling?" Robert asked during a lull in their activities.

Cora shook her head, her long black tresses falling around her face in the way that drove Robert wild. "Not while I'm with you. In fact, I'm more than comfortably warm," she replied as she leaned into him again, hungrily devouring his lips.

Robert hummed with pleasure as she did so, burrowing even deeper under the blankets where all was warm and exciting.

"Darling," he said a while later as they both laid on their backs, spent from lovemaking, "we are going to miss the light show." He furrowed his brow at the thought.

Cora traced a finger down his face. "No, we won't," she assured him. "If you've brought that flask of scotch to warm us up, I'll show you the most delightful place to view them."

Robert grinned as they pulled their clothes back on, quickly locating the flask in question. Once unprotected by the massive tent of blankets, he felt the chill and quickly took a hearty swig, then passed it to Cora. To his surprise, she downed nearly as copious an amount as he had taken.

Cora grabbed him by the hand and pulled him onto his feet. "Come with me," she encouraged.

They walked from the unpopulated hill of their passion toward the rose garden, now just a twisted collection of branches that one may never guess, in its current state, could produce the kind of astounding blossoms for which it was famous in the warmer months. Robert wondered where his wife was leading them until he spied the bench that had always been her favorite off in the distance. It was one made out of rustic joinings of logs, a stark contrast to the finery inside the abbey. It was simple, natural, unpretentious- much like Cora herself.

She nearly flung them both onto the bench. "Here!" Her voice was triumphant. "In our first year of marriage, you might not have known my whereabouts most of the time, but I can tell you that I spent many hours here, in all seasons. The roses are obviously beautiful in summer, but it really endeared itself to me more in the colder months when all its lauded beauty was stripped away and one could only see land and sky. Then, one night when I was feeling particularly lonely, the Northern Lights appeared."

Robert looked up at the aurora borealis and tried to imagine the wonder that his wife must have felt when the Lights had made their first surprise appearance. He pulled her into his warm embrace. "Oh, Cora, this is breathtaking. I'm so regretful that you found it in a time of sorrow." His voice dropped. "One which I caused..."

She snuggled closer and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, my love. Those times are over and gone and I do not intend to hurt you by mentioning them. It was simply how I discovered this aspect to the garden," she said ruefully. "Ironically, every time I came out here to seek comfort, there they were. The Lights. When your mother was hard on me about not producing an heir, when we lost our son right before the war began, when Matthew died, and, of course, when our dear Sybil..." She could not bring herself to finish the sentence because she did not want to cry on this wonderful night and also because she knew he understood without her saying another syllable.

His arm came more tightly around her. "I know, Cora. I know." He stared at the ground and sighed. "I wish it hadn't always been in tragedy that you had sought this place. And, why didn't you share it with me before tonight?"

She turned to face him, her bright blue eyes pleading for understanding. "Because I didn't want it to be only associated with tragedy and tears," she explained. "Now that we are beginning a new year, I thought by bringing you here, it could also create a whole new meaning of happy beginnings. No one knows what the year ahead will bring, Robert. It could be the best ever, or there could be more times of trial. Most years have both things, my darling. But, now that we have spent it together, I think that is a very promising thing indeed. Don't you think so, Robert?"

Robert was silent for a moment, grinning as he thought of the warmth of their amorous night, all played out to a backdrop of the beautiful colors in the sky. "Oh, yes, Cora. I certainly agree."

Cora smiled. "Now it seems as though we'd best go back inside. The children are going to wonder where we have been."

Robert laughed softly. "Not that big of a quandary, my dear, with your lovely hair all loose and free, not to mention this silly grin that won't leave my face."

"We should just tell them to go watch the Northern Lights. Nothing more, nothing less. After all, the Lights are quite inspiring," Cora answered nonchalantly as they stood up, linked arms and headed back toward the house, the sound of their laughter tinkling like bells in the crystalline night air.


End file.
